From You to Me (AU)
by gioiamis
Summary: Nozomi was like an orphan- her parents abandoned her in their old home when she was a child, and she had always depended on herself from then on. With what resources and skills that she had been left with, she almost barely survives. About a year after, she began receiving money from a mysterious benefactress. For she had owed her life to this girl, she began to seek her identity.
**A/N: To everyone reading right now, thanks for your support! I appreciate you reading my second book! (Whew! Starting a new one without continuing the second chapter of my first!)**

 **I'm setting the story in America, that's why I'm using the US Dollar as the currency- I'm more familiar and accurate with the nation! And although it's an AU, I'm still using bits of information on Nozomi's life that was already canon in the anime.**

 **Please review and give feedback! I won't be offended if you criticize me. Just gives me room for improvement!**

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Sometimes I wonder, just wonder, what my life would be like in the future, how I'd make friends if I were to always move from house to house, city to city. My mother and father always had to move around, and so I never seem to make long-lasting friendships. So one day, when I was tired of this constant vagabond life, I decided to stay. My parents; they left me, but I stayed. I hid from them, and without a second thought, they rode a bus to somewhere-in-nowhere and didn't look back. I thought they would return, but in the end, they left me forever to live alone.

I don't even remember what my parents look like, in all honesty.

I only remember that they left me for good.

I was no less than an orphan, though I don't miss my parents.

I remembered it clearly- I begged them to stay, I was on my knees, and I grasped the hem of my mother's shirt. She shook me off and told me I was an annoying child, and threw me on the ground. I lay, sobbing. I promised them I would do anything. But they didn't change their mind to my desperate pleas. In peripheral vision, I could see her pull up the long skirt of her dress and ascend up the stairs. I felt, on the top of my cheekbone, a bruise. That didn't matter, though, when my mind was in confusion and ruins. I rose and turned around then, lifting myself with my weak, shaky arms, and saw my dad shoot me a quick glance of pity, which then hardened, and he looked away. I knew he had a kind heart. I knew he, in a way, did love me like his own child. But he both loved and feared my mother, so he left me be. With a shuddering sigh, I picked myself up and ran to my room. I wanted to stay with my parents, yet I did not want to leave my home, which I adapted to. That was the day before I had to leave. But on the day we were to leave, my parents had left without me. I was alone and confused, and I cried even more. From then on, I realized the huge responsibility of learning to _survive_ alone.

But even worse, I was restricted certain services because I had no "guardian" to be with me. But I didn't want to be brought to foster homes, so I always had hidden the fact that I lived alone at such a young age and tried to depend on my more reliable classmates. Classmates, yes. But not friends. Oh, no, I had no friends, and I didn't dare to make any. I bet I was the poor, lonely girl that everyone pitied; but I was just such a dull girl that no one liked, and left me with my own problems. I did have several friends at some time, but they always moved away. Every one of them who ever got close to me. Gone. I wanted to follow, but how could I ever do so? And so I didn't bother- I've tried, but nothing ever worked.

Whenever I am sick, I'd have to make up excuses for my parents not being with me. "My mother is at the hospital," I said at the age of eleven. "She'll be out today, and she gives me permission to walk alone." Oh, I wished. But it always worked in my favor, and with what money and strength I had left, I would trudge down to the pharmacy to pick up the prescription. The pharmacist would ask where my mother was, and I'd say that she was at the bakery for a quick bathroom trip. Then I'd hurry up and go home. During the whole time, I had to swallow my nausea. How did I learn to do such things? Well, I read books; many books. I forced myself to read. At the age of six, I decided to read chapter books. There were classics left in my house- from Dickens, Poe, and many others. I came to love them quickly, with sketches on them every few pages. Little treasures my parents left behind.

How do I make money? I...I don't. I don't know how, or how come, but someone always sends me money each week. Sometimes slipped twenty if I had luck, but the most I had were fifty. Sometimes sent them in a mailbox, care packages, or even slipped them under the door. I had seven-hundred twenty-eight given by them, saved in organized jars through a period of almost five years.

They even got me a job at a café- as a brewer. And so this time, they gave me a clue of who they were. They probably have some kind of relation to the café, and I'll be thankful for them, but the fact that someone was sending me mysterious mails, money, and letters was still rather creepy. How did they know my address; and why would they even slip me money?

I knew nothing, but I'd always thank the gods for their support. My mysterious friend. My mysterious friend who keeps helping me behind my back. Therefore, one day, after my new job, I decided to hide to see if they would come. But they never did.

Until I continued this process for several days, and one day, I saw a girl dressed in all black- even her face was covered with a black mask- at two o' clock sharp, and she crept into my property. She was rather curvaceous and had a wig on, but I could see a glint of light hair poking out of her neck from the dim street lights. My breath had hitched in my throat and I watched intently, hiding behind the window. At first, I'd thought she was a thief who wanted to steal what little possessions I already had left.

The girl opened the short gate carefully with a small creak, and jumped into the soft patch of grass, and up the steps of my front porch. Then she carefully opened the mailbox next to the wooden door of my little house, and stuck an envelope inside which she had kept in her sweatshirt. Finally, she slowly closed it, careful not to make a noise, and crept out, closing the gate. She ran away, and that was the last I saw her. What a thrilling moment. I don't even know who that was, but all I know was that she wore a black outfit and threw something on the steps.

The note in her handwriting that I was to go to the Marble Café, and introduce myself to the staff, as well as my job there. (She suggested to the manager that _I_ should work there?)

There were also eleven dollars.

And the next night, an outfit I was supposed to wear for the job. Not a maid outfit- I would've loved a cute maid outfit, though- just an apron, and if I preferred, a shirt. A cap with the café's name on it.

And the most important: I opened the packet and found a wood block letter, "L". Perhaps it's a letter of her name. Either way, I'm eager to know who she is. She was my benefactor and my life-saver.

You must've thought, "why would you trust that girl? You don't know who she is and her true intentions". You don't know if she meant to hurt you.

But I trusted her. My instincts saw her as a friendly person. I knew where Marble Café was, and I've eaten there quite a few times, so I'd know I'm safe. She was also my benefactress, so she most likely wanted to help me. And god knows what would happen, but I tell you the most bizarre decision of my life- I accepted this strange-stranger, what she gave me, and was grateful. She still hasn't given me another letter yet, but I'm waiting.

But still, who was this girl? And why did she want to help me?

I don't know, but I'm waiting, still waiting, until I finally know who she was.


End file.
